


let's have a toast to the douchebags

by Marshmellow (orphan_account)



Series: friends & neighbors [1]
Category: Band of Brothers, Generation Kill, The Pacific (TV)
Genre: #grownups, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Gen, M/M, West Virginia, they live in apartments!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-17
Updated: 2015-02-17
Packaged: 2018-03-13 12:40:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3381854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Marshmellow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Well, every couple has to break up once. </p><p>Or; Web and Joe cause a shit storm. Losers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	let's have a toast to the douchebags

**Author's Note:**

> Set in Charleston, West Virginia! Beautiful country.
> 
> I started writing this in 2012, and I recent found it and revamped it for the past week. Apparently, all I could do in 2012 was write Webgott breaking up. Sorry. I swear I have a wider range of ideas than just tearing apart my baes. 
> 
> Title of the series is from a cute 50s song of the same name by Billy Cotton. Title of this part is from Runaway by Kanyeeeee West. 
> 
> disclaimer; don't own. no disrespect meant towards the actual men, as these are based on the actor portrayals in the shows.

It was early November and a cool front was making its way through the east coast, making this early West Virginian autumn a little chillier than normal. Webster clearly did not consider the weather when he walked out the building that morning, as he only had on a button up and chinos. His New England roots had him assuming any state south of Maryland was warm year around. Being the ever so thoughtful and generous boyfriend he was, Joe offered him his sweater, but Web had refused.

They’d been dating for the better part of a year. Or at least their form of dating. They were known for fighting daily, although not too intensely. It was more like banter. Even so, Snafu had begun to keep a tally on the whiteboard stuck to his, Joe, and Gene’s refrigerator until Web got personally offended, like always, and dramatically erased it. He even replaced it with some quote from a poem nobody else could even understand. Joe didn’t think much of it, neither did Snafu, but when Leckie came to pick up a book he left there that night he laughed for ten minutes straight. Snafu almost kicked him out of the building.

Joe noticed that Webster was shaking, but that was his own damn fault for not dressing properly for the weather. Nothing Joe could do about that except walk as close to Web as comfortably possible; y'know, share the warmth and whatnot. He wasn’t talking much, not as much as he usually did, but Web was moody at best so Joe didn’t think too much of it.

“What’s the big deal about sharks anyway?” He was hoping that would at least spark a small conversation with Web (he loved talking marine biology), but he just shrugged instead. That should’ve been Joe’s first sign that there was something wrong, but he ignored the feeling.

Web looked down at his feet and hunched his shoulders. He looked like he was trying to tuck himself into his pockets, which irritated Joe to no end. Joe didn’t like Web being upset, but it was worse when he didn’t know why. It itched at his brain, made him feel like there was something he had to know and fix. And Joe did _not_ like feeling itchy.

“Get your hands outta your damn pockets, Web.” Joe reached over and pulled one of his hands from his pocket. He held it in his own, letting it swing gently between them. Web stared at their hands for a long moment before staring at his feet again.

“Alright, shark bait, tell me what you’re pouting about now.” He shook the limp hand he held.

“I’m not pouting.” He said flatly. Joe rolled his eyes. Web was _always_ pouting. It was infuriatingly endearing. Fuck him for making Joe so soft.

“Right. Whatever, Web.”

Web pulled his hand away sharply. Joe would've scoffed at the action, but didn’t want to upset Web further than he already seemed to be. Eventually, the heavy silence was too much to bear. Joe was never good at staying quiet.

“What the fuck is up with you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why are you being moodier than normal? Usually you’re Mr. PDA.” Joe rubbed the back of his neck, feeling at a loss as what to do with his hand when Web’s wasn’t in it.

“I don’t know what you mean.” He shivered again, looking more and more pathetic as the walk carried on. Joe wondered how he walked out the door without crumpling like crusty paper.

“Yeah, ya’ do. And I can tell ‘cos you won’t even look at me. Right, if you’re gonna be like this I’m goin’ home.” Joe even turned around as if he really was about to go home.

That caught Webster’s interest, like always. Whenever Web closed himself off, all Joe did was threaten to leave him alone for a prolonged period of time and just like clockwork he’d spill out everything.

“No wait.” Web stopped walking, still staring at the pavement. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, yeah. Just tell me what’s running through that big head of yours, alright?”

Web nodded, but didn’t say anything. Joe sighed. He grabbed Web’s arm and forced him to stop walking.

“Christ, Web, you know that means you’re supposed to actually start sayin’ words. Usually you don’t shut up.”

“Why don’t you love me?” He blurted, immediately stepping a few feet away from Joe, fearing a physical response.

“What?” Joe was taken aback. The question seemed very out of the blue, but then Joe remembered that Webster was one of the biggest drama queens he knew. So he answered it the best way he knew how, like a smart ass. “What kinda shit are you spoutin’? ‘Course I fuckin’ love you. You think I’d stick around with your sorry ass if I didn’t?”

“Right.” Web nodded, looking distant. Joe wanted to punch that stupid lost-puppy look off Webs’ pretty little face, but that would only make him cry. And if there’s something Joe hates more than slow drivers and doors that push when they look like they pull, it’s Webster crying. But it looked like that’s the path they were leading down anyway.

“What are you lookin’ like that for?”

“Looking like what for?”

“Stop being like that!”

“Being like _what_?” Webster continued looking at the ground, at the trees across the street in the park, anywhere but Joe’s face.

“Fine, you don’t wanna talk? We won’t talk. In fact, you can fuckin’ go to the aquarium yourself.” Joe figured it would be a little tiff, and end at that. Web would come home later, shoving pamphlets from the aquarium at him and Joe would apologize. Then, possibly some make-up sex and that was that. Joe had this whole system down.

Webster stood with his hands in his pockets, shaking from the chill because he was too fucking stupid to remember a jacket. The streets were supposed to be friendly and familiar, but they seemed to be mocking instead. Joe stared at Webster for a long moment before turning around. It was then he heard the deadly sound of Webster’s breath hitching. It wasn’t going to be just a little tiff.

“God dammit, Web.” Joe huffed under his breath. He turned slightly in place to see Web walking down the street alone. “Web!”

Webster turned around, eyes wide and wet. Sometimes Joe swore he was dating a four year old. “What do you want from me?”

“Are you serious right now? Do you hear yourself talk? You’re actin’ like I’ve done somethin’ wrong and you won’t even tell me what!” Joe stalked forward, standing close to Web once again.

“I talked to Eugene.”

And just like that, all the pieces fell into place. Sledge was somewhat of a building gossip, couldn’t keep a secret to save his life. Last week, after a bad fight with Web about time management (which was resolved later that night after a few tears on both ends and a promise to make it up with a date to the aquarium), Joe had vented his angry little heart out to Snafu in what he thought was the privacy of their apartment. But of course, because Snafu was there, Sledge had eventually shown up and caught the worst of it.

_“I don’t know how much longer I can put up with his shit. Christ, it’s like I’m livin’ in fucking Dawson’s Creek or somethin’.”  Joe paced back and forth, unable to keep still from how pissed off he was._

_“Maybe you’s just need some space.” Snafu watched him carefully from the couch. He picked at a loose thread, fidgeting and pretending to not give a shit. But he really knew that any time the two had a serious argument, it was a delicate situation. Everyone in the building knew it._

_“That was the whole damn problem in the first place. He’s the clingiest little shit I’ve ever met in my life. I wouldn’t get space from him even if I fuckin’ blasted him to the fuckin’ moon.”_

_“Watch what you say, Joseph, may come back to bit yeh in the ass.”_

_“Right. I wish we could just get along for a fucking day. I’m sick of this fucking shit.”_

_“Doncha love him though?” Snafu had lazily smoked, eyeing Joe with a dangerous gaze. He glanced back at Sledge, who had walked in not long ago and was watching warily from the kitchen._

_“Of course I fucking love him, for Christ’s sake, I’m not a fucking asshole.” Joe ran a hand through his hair. “I just don’t know sometimes.”_

_“Joe, you shouldn’t say things like that.” Sledge said, sounding highly distressed. He focused too hard on making his sandwich, almost slamming the bread on top of the turkey._

_“This ain’t your business, Sledgehammuh.” Snafu drawled, not looking away from Joe._

_“David’s one of my best friends and my roommate. Damn right, it’s my business.” Sledge’s jaw tightened. He snapped his eyes onto Joe’s own, and they stared each other down. He grabbed his sandwich, gaze not leaving Joe’s, and exited the apartment to walk across the hall to his own._

_“What the fuck was that?”_

_“That ain’t good, Joseph.” Snafu said easily._

_“Whattya talkin’ about?”_

_“Sledge is the building gossip granny. Ain’t no secret he won’t spill.”_

_“Shit. If he says a word-”_

_“Don’t you touch a hair on that boy’s head, Joseph.”_

And Joe thought he’d gotten a free pass on that. They’d made up, gone on as normal. Joe didn’t think anything was off. Well, until now.

“Sledge doesn’t know anything.”

“Why would you do that? If you didn’t feel that way anymore, if you didn’t...” Webster couldn’t seem to get the words out that he wanted. “Care for me. You could’ve just told me. No, I had to hear it from Eugene. Do you know how that feels?”

Joe really wanted to hit Sledge right about now.

“That was right after a huge fight, Web. ‘Course I was pissy and spoutin’ shit! That’s how I deal before comin’ to talk it out. That’s how it’s always been. You do the same thing! And I never said I didn’t love you!”

“This isn’t just spouting shit Joe! This is about how you feel, this is about us. And if what you told Snafu is true, you don’t love me anymore, then can’t you just be honest and tell me?” Webster’s eyes bore into Joe’s, making him feel like the worst kind of scum. Which was bullshit, since Web was the one over-reacting about this shit.

“No, you don’t get to be a drama queen.” Joe said. “This ain’t middle school. Shit, Sledge fucking lied! And I don’t gotta tell you exactly how I feel at every moment of our fucking lives.”

“In some cases, you should! You should tell me if I’m being, what was it...clingy? Sorry I’m trying to show you I care, Joe. Maybe I should just stop trying!” Webster was red in the face by now, eyes getting heavier with tears. Joe just wanted to make it stop. This argument was ridiculous. They just needed to stop and chill the fuck out.

“Stop it, Web.” He said, trying to keep a steady voice. “We just gotta calm down, okay-”

“I can’t keep doing this. Not knowing...what Eugene told me. I don’t think-”

“No.” Joe’s voice was low. He was absolutely terrified. He didn’t spend a year fighting for this relationship just to have it ripped out because of Sledge. “You aren’t leaving me.” It wasn’t an order; it was a plea.

“Joe...” Webster sounded just as broken as Joe was feeling.

“No, you can’t just do that. I screwed up, I know that, alright? I screw up all the time. I’m a giant screw ball. I’m the fucking worst. I get that. I don’t deserve you, you’re perfect, blah, blah blah. I’ve heard that enough to last a lifetime. You don’t get t’just get up and leave me without at least given me a chance to explain.” Joe wasn’t crying, he was too angry for that just now. Too focused on trying to keep Web. If he cried, it would be game over. “We fight all the time, right? We can talk this out like regular adults.”

“No, we can’t.” Web shook his head. His hands were still stuffed in his pockets, his thin button up looking sad and wrinkled. “I can’t do this. I thought I could, I thought I could just ignore it but...I deserve better. All we do is fight. We had to know...”

“No. Don’t. You can’t say that. Because I didn’t know, alright? I thought there was something here we were fighting for.”

Web looked away. “See ya, Joe.”

“I...” He couldn’t say it, not so simply. He had never just said the words ‘I love you’. He could say it flippantly, in a joke, passively. He couldn’t do it when it mattered. He watched as Web walked away, fighting the urge to jump on his back and refuse to let him go.

Instead he was frozen on the spot, watching as Web walked away from him.

“EUGENE SLEDGE I’M GONNA FUCKING SKIN YOUR SCRAWNY ASS AND FUCKING KILL YOU UNTIL YOU CAN’T BREATHE ANYMORE, YOU USELESS PIECE OF PIG SHIT!”

With these fighting words, the residents of the Currahee Apartment Complex hid away in fear inside their respective homes. Sledge was lounging with Snafu on Snafu’s couch watching Sleepless In Seattle when Joe burst into their apartment.

“Sledgehammuh.” Snafu said slowly. “What’d’ya do?”

Sledge looked entirely too much like Bambi in that moment. His eyes grew wide, looking to Snafu for help, but getting none. He stood up and made the mistake of backing away towards the wall.

“Please, I’m sorry...I don’t know what happened it just...came out, I’m sorry, Joe, please don’t hurt me-” Joe cut him off by pushing him roughly against the wall. Sledge cried out in pain as his head hit the hard wall.

“Hey!” Snafu said. The word fell on deaf ears as Joe pressed his forearm against Sledge’s chest.

“What the fuck did you tell him? Guess what the fuck he just did, you southern piece of shit?” When Sledge didn’t answer, eyes growing wet quickly, Joe brought him forward only to slam him against the wall again. “He broke up with me! For fucking good! What the fuck did you tell him?”

Snafu grabbed Joe roughly by his shoulders and pulled him off. Joe fought him at first, but soon realised what he was doing and lowered himself to the ground instead. Sledge, meanwhile, was trying to regain his composure.

“He left me.” Joe said. “That fucking dick left me. Shit.”

All Sledge and Snafu could do was watch as Joe sat on the floor, staring at his hands and wondering why it all went to hell.

 

Eventually Joe lifted himself off the floor, mumbled a sheepish apology, and shuffled to his room. Sledge was well near tears by this point, and Snafu rolled his eyes, inviting Sledge back to the couch.

“I didn’t mean to.” Sledge said for at least the fourteenth time. Snafu nodded, rubbing Sledge’s back carefully. He wasn’t used to being so physically close with anyone, but Sledge’s tears had that effect on almost everyone. The credits long since stopped rolling and the title menu for Sleepless in Seattle was playing on a loop in the background.

“You shouldn’t’ve gone and done that, Sledge.” Snafu said with no real bite. He knew Sledge felt bad enough already, no need to make it worse.

“He was just asking me all these questions and I couldn’t keep it in! He was all ‘I know you know something, Eugene, what aren’t you telling me?’ and shit. I couldn’t let him think the worst!”

“I dun’ know if you knew this, but that was the worst.”

Sledge curled up against Snafu, burying his face into his friend’s side. “I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

“Everyone’s gonna hate me now.”

“Ain’t no way everyone could hate you, Sledgehammuh.”

Sledge stayed silent for a moment. “You’ll never hate me.” It was a statement, not a question. No matter how angry they could get, neither of them could really ever hate each other. They lived together all through college, which is enough to form a bond between anybody. They’d gone through some tough shit, from Sledge’s brother going overseas with the Marines to when Snafu landed on Sledge’s front porch one summer during their college years, face bruised and eyes distant. He’d almost collapsed right then and there. Snafu could never properly show his gratitude for Sledge and his family, who let him graciously stay the rest of the summer away from his father and mother back home. Though they decided it would be better if they tried living apart after college, they agreed being neighbors was a must.

It had been a long five years, but no way would Snafu ever take them back.

“Not even if I tried.”

Sledge nodded, reassuring himself that he would always have Snafu even if the rest of the building probably wanted to murder him right now.

 

Webster didn’t get home until about two o’clock that morning. He’d found himself at bar a little too far from home and stumbled his way to a cab, overpaying him for his duties. He somehow reached the second floor, after stopping on one of the landings to laugh at the patterns swirling on the wallpaper. He stood outside 2E for at least five minutes, waking at least half the floor with his banging.

“Leckie! Mr. Bob! Sir Robert!” He nearly started wheezing from laughing at himself. “Roooobert! I’m locked out here! _On my ooooown_.” The singing was as awful as any drunk literature student might sound.

“Web, if you don’t shut the fuck up I’m going to castrate you and burn your bookshelf.” Bill Smith poked his head out of 2F, blearily glaring at Web who was leaning heavily against the door. Web ignored him.

“ _All alooone, I hate his guts til morning._ And after. Forever.” Web said to nobody. “I hate him so much, Hoosier.” He laughed, but his eyes were sad and dark.

Bill would have softened at the drunken words if he wasn’t so pissed and tired.

“Here, look. I got a key, see?” He grabbed his keyring from the bowl setting on the table by the door.

“A key? A key to my home!” Webster’s drunk face brightened exceptionally. “Oh Hoos, I knew Leckie loved you for a damn good reason!”

Bill was too tired to have the dignity not to blush. He’d protect his rep in the morning. If Web even remembered by then. He opened the door, shoving Web roughly inside, right into Leckie.

“You take care of him. I’m going to bed.” With that, Hoosier slammed the door and made his way back to his apartment.

“What the-”

“Oh hell-o, Mr. Leckie!” Webster mock saluted. “How are you this fine morning?”

“It’s two in the morning. Eugene and I were worried.”

“Eugene Sledge?” Webster laughed painfully. “He’s probably laughing right now! Laughing it up with his fucked up, no good, horrible best friend-”

“Shut up, David.” Sledge emerged from his room, the yelling having woken him up. “Don’t blame Snafu for this.”

“Who do I blame, huh? You for telling me? I could’ve gone my whole life without knowing! Ignorance is fucking bliss, right?” Webster quickly grew angry, spitting out his words painfully.

“Hey, hey!” Leckie tried to get control over the room. Sledge looked damn near tears again, and he’d finally gotten him to go to bed half an hour before Webster trampled in. I live with actual six year olds, Leckie thought. “Sledge, go back to bed. Web, we’re going to sober you up and then have a long talk.”

After two glasses of water, a few pieces of bread, and a little bit of crying, Webster was approaching some semblance of sobriety. Leckie sat him on the couch carefully.

“Okay, well." Leckie clapped his hands, ready to get down to business and solve some relationship shit. "Sledge will barely talk to me without getting all blubbery. You want to tell me what’s going on?” Leckie swore he never got a moment of rest around here. He deserved a friendship award after all this.

“I don’t know. One minute we’re walking to the aquarium, then I don’t know.” As if suddenly realizing what he had done, he pathetically added, “I broke up with Joe.”

“Oh, Web...” Leckie reached out to reassuringly rest his hand on Web’s back.

“I had to, though. I couldn’t keep on...not when he said what he did.”

“What happened?”

Webster recounted everything he could to Leckie.

“Hey, Web, I’m sure he didn’t mean it like that.”

“How else can you mean that? It seems pretty clear to me.” Web looked pathetically into his hands. “You know, I should’ve seen this coming. I should’ve known. I’m surprised we made it this long, to be honest.”

“Don’t say that, Web...” But really, Leckie knew most of the building thought along the same lines. The two fought so often it should’ve been considered unhealthy, but somehow they managed to stay together. Every week seemed like a miracle to any outsider. Yet, it still seemed strange that they were broken up for good. The two had been together for as long as Leckie had lived there, and it seemed like a foreign concept to have them separated.

“I don’t want to talk about it anymore.” Web stood. “It’s over. It’s done. I have to get up in a few hours for work, anyway.”

Leckie nodded. Web stumbled his way to his bedroom, but Leckie didn't say anything. He figured the man deserved to keep some of his dignity.

If he and Sledge heard him crying that night, they didn’t say anything about it.

 

The third floor of Currahee was probably the calmest of the three story building. Ron and Carwood were rather quiet about their business and managed to become the “Mama and Papa” of the complex whereas Lewis and Dick took the titles of “cool uncles”. Harry was more like the cousin who still lived with his parents until he saved up enough to move out with his long time girlfriend. Kitty had left for a European tour in early October, and as soon as she got home Harry wanted to surprise her with a nice place of their own.

Ron was still sleeping when an anguished cry rang through the floor that sounded suspiciously like Nixon waking up before noon.

“ _Why, Dick? Why?_ ”

There were some muffled groans and a dull thump that Ron suspected was Nixon being rolled out of bed. He decided it was time to get up anyway. Blearily, he noticed it was just after six in the morning. Perfect.

Some days Ron wished he hadn’t chosen the room that shared a wall with Lewis Nixon’s. He wondered if Lew and Dick’s neighbors on the other side, Eddie and Burgie, ever felt as homicidal towards Lew as Ron did some mornings.

Ron took his time getting out of bed, seeing as he still had an hour until he had to be at work. Walking into the kitchen area, he found Carwood already awake. There was a dull thump of sneakers against stairs as Rudy Reyes from the first floor began his daily warm up routine. Three floors up, three floors down. He did this at least five times every morning. It drove everyone with rooms near the staircases insane, but Rudy was too amiable for anyone to tell him so.

“Lewis giving Dick trouble again?” Carwood asked as he buttered his toast.

“Something like that.”

A door slammed and they heard childish stomping down the hall. They thought nothing of it, going back to their respective breakfasts.

Ten minutes later, there was an urgent knock on the door.

“Lip, hey Lip! Open up, hurry!” Babe sounded like he was in despair.

Carwood shot a confused look at Ron before hurrying to the door.

“What’s wrong?”

“Web and Joe broke up and I don’t know why, but Web threw up in the hall and nobody wants to clean it up cos Gene is busy pulling triple shifts or some shit, and I would but yo know how it is when-”

Lipton sighed. “Alright, I’ll be down in a few minutes. Just make sure nobody, especially Luz, steps in it.”

Babe nodded, rushing back downstairs to keep try and keep the peace until Lip could come and fix it all.

Speirs noticed how exasperated Lipton looked. He was always cleaning up after the guys on the second floor, and even Lew and Dick (but mostly Lew) on a few occasions, ever since they’d moved in. Ron and Carwood weren’t much older, but they sure felt like it sometimes. Carwood overworked himself, pulling long hours at the firm he worked at (if only to make money until he could find something better) and coming home to mothering the guys of Currahee. Ron wished they would all learn to take care of themselves.

“Hey, let me get this. You look beat.” He looked more than beat; he looked sickly.

“No, it’s fine. I know how to clean up vomit, we had to all the time at the bed and breakfast-”

“Well, I’ve had to clean my fair share of vomit too. I’ll take care of this, and you go back to bed. You don’t look good.”

“Really, Ron, I’m fine-”

“Bed. Now.” Ron meant it. And when Ron means it, he won’t let you go against his word. Carwood, being his roommate of four years, knew this rather well. However, he didn’t back down. He did what he did best: compromised.

“No offense, Ron, but you’re not the best to put in a situation with a bunch of upset guys.”

Speirs stared at him, but Lipton didn’t wither under the gaze.

“If it bothers you that much, I’ll call in sick to work today. Just let me clean up this mess or it’ll be bothering me all day.”

“Alright, fine. But if you’re not in your bed in half an hour, I’m dragging you there myself. Those guys need to learn some self-reliance.”

Carwood nodded, grabbing a mop on his way out and mentally preparing himself for the mess awaiting him on the second floor.

 

“Jesus Christ, Web! What’d you do that for?” Luz was dressed for work, Toccoa Bar and Grill apron tied messily around his waist. He was hopping around on one foot, looking at his soiled shoe.

“I’m sorry, George, I don’t know what happened.” Web was sitting against the wall by his apartment door. He looked like complete and utter shit, to put it nicely. His skin was pale, and his hair wild. He looked like he’d gotten minimal sleep the night before, defined bags underneath his eyes telling Lipton all he needed to know. Web had gotten fucked up the night before.

“David.” Lipton said simply as he approached the situation, handing Luz one of the many towels he brought along. Webster looked up pitifully. “Go inside. I don’t think you’re fit to go to work today.”

Webster looked absolutely offended at this, almost panicky. “I can’t do that, Lip! I have deadlines to meet! If I don’t get my article in by tomorrow, they’ll put me back as a columnist! I’ve just started doing the cover stories!”

“You can write while you’re in bed, can’t you?” Lipton pulled him up by the elbows. “Go back to bed, now.”

Webster wobbled a little as he stood, carefully stepping around the mess he made and stumbled into his apartment. Lipton closed the door after him.

“George, you go on to work. Sorry about your shoe.”

“Ain’t your fault, Lip. Somethin’ really left Web a mess, huh?”

Lipton nodded as Luz dramatically sighed and scurried off to work. Although, why he was leaving at this time in the morning was a mystery since Toccoa didn’t open until noon. Babe stepped out tentatively from 2C.

“Is the coast clear? Can I come out?” Babe asked, looking frantically up and down the hallway.

“It’s just me out here, Babe, you’re fine.” Lipton laughed a little. He began to mop up the mess, almost in vain as he knew that the stench would remain and Sobel would throw a crying fit when he saw it.

“Christ, I don’t know what happened. Leckie stopped by some of the apartments this morning to warn us what happened and then we heard this sorta choking sound-”

“It’s fine now, don’t worry.” Lipton assured. He drenched the spot with odor killer and heaved a giant sigh. He really was feeling rather sick, and as much as he didn’t want to had to admit a day off sounded rather nice. “I have to get back upstairs before Ron kills me, but you’re off work today right?”

“Yeah, but-”

“Make sure nobody kills anyone.” With that he turned and walked upstairs, leaving Babe frantic behind him.

“LIP! I’m too young to die!”

 

Eugene Sledge liked to believe he was personable, likeable, and amicable among other things. He tried not to hate things too much. But one of the exceptions to this was when his friends were fighting. He didn’t like that at all.

It was ten in the morning the day after the Joe had slammed him into the wall for fucking up his relationship when he woke to yelling outside his room. He’d heard Lipton shove Web back into his room this morning, but he quickly ignored it and slipped back to sleep.

It was Friday, his last Friday before beginning assistant teaching with Buck Compton from down the hall at the local elementary school’s pre-school program. His last day of work at Barnes and Noble had been the day before and he was looking forward to a weekend of sleep before being worn out every day by excitable young children.

This was ruined by one Snafu Shelton and one Joseph Liebgott.

“I don’t know why you’re takin’ his side with this! He fuckin’ talked shit to Web and he’s gotta learn a fuckin’ lesson for it!”

“Don’t mean you’s gotta bash his head in, Joseph. Leave Eugene alone.” Snafu’s voice was icy. Sledge wondered for a moment why they were in his apartment at all. Couldn’t they do this in their own?

“You’re not gonna talk to him, I might as well.” Joe hissed. Sledge heard him approaching his door, and he pulled his blankets over his head, hoping to disappear into his comforter and into sleep.

“Wake the hell up, Sledge!” Joe banged on the door.

“No.” He moaned into his pillow.

“I wanna have a word with you.”

“You already did!”

“I want to have another one!”

Sledge considered jumping out of his window for a very brief moment.

“Snafu!” Sledge knew he was whining, but it was before noon on his weekend off and dammit, he wanted to sleep.

“I tried.” Snafu said. “Ain’t nothin’ gonna stop him. He hurts one hair on your head, you tell me and I’ll smotha’ him in ‘is sleep.”

Sledge rolled out of bed, extremely unwillingly. He knew how angry Joe was with him, how angry Webster probably was. It’s not like he purposefully told Webster everything. Web wouldn’t shut up about it until Sledge said something.

Sledge really wished he hadn’t said a word. So he might’ve exaggerated a bit, but it wasn’t on purpose. Joe was the one who said he didn’t know if he loved Web anymore; it wasn’t his fault for telling Web the truth. He pulled on a pair of sweatpants over his boxers and tried to wipe the sleep out of his eyes with his t-shirt. He trudged to his door and slowly pushed it open. Joe was unsurprisingly standing just a foot away, foot tapping impatiently. Snafu slipped out, Easy Cafe apron in hand. Sledge helplessly watched him go.

“What else is there to talk about, Joe?” Sledge said tiredly. He really didn’t want to get involved with this fight, even though he knew he was the reason for it.

“You’re fixin’ this.” He stepped forward and jabbed Sledge’s chest with his pointer finger. “You screwed it up, you’re fixin’ it.”

“Fuck off, Joe. You know Web can probably hear you, right?”

Joe seemed to pale slightly, but kept his face steady. “He’s at work. Never stops fuckin’ workin’. Seven days a week.”

 _Uh-oh._ “Uhm, no he’s not. I heard Lip shove him back in here for whatever reason. Something about him getting sick, I think.” Sledge tried to keep his voice even, but he was getting more and more worried.

Joe nodded once, annoyed. He briefly remembered the questionable stain between the doors of 2D and 2E. “Right. Of fucking course. Great. Hope you’re real fuckin’ happy with yourself, Sledge.”

“For fuck’s sake, Joe, leave him alone and get out.”

Eugene froze, almost crying out as an early reaction to what was surely about to be a throw down. Webster was standing in his doorway, looking absolutely furious. Joe was absolutely speechless. He didn’t really know what to say without making himself look like a complete asshole.

“I can’t believe you. Blaming Sledge for our break up because he told me what you said?”

“I-”

“You’re just mad I found out. God, what are you, twelve? You’re not even going to man up and apologize, you’re just going to blame the messenger. Typical.” Web rolled his eyes. “Get out, leave us alone. Leave Sledge alone. Most of all, leave me alone.”

“Web, hear me out, alright? What he told you wasn’t true! I never said I didn’t love you!”

“Yeah, you did!” Sledge said. Joe could have strangled him. It was like Sledge was sent here to personally make Joe's life a living hell. “Snafu asked if you loved him, you said you did but you didn’t know anymore. I shouldn’t have meddled, but I didn’t lie.”

The fact was, Sledge was right. But the interpretation of what he said was completely wrong, which was frustrating as hell. Joe pinched the bridge of his nose. “I didn’t fucking mean I didn’t know if I loved him, you fucking idiot. I meant I didn’t know if I could keep on fighting like that, for fuck’s sake.”

“Oh, that’s convenient.” Web seethed. “How am I supposed to believe that?”

“Because you know me! You know I’d never say something shitty like that, no matter what company I’m in!” Joe was at his wit’s end. The words seemed to have some sort of impact, however. Web stood there, mouth open and speechless. “If you can’t believe me, maybe breaking up was a good idea.”

Joe stormed out, Webster following closely behind. “Joe, wait-” Joe made a point to open the door with an extreme amount of force, which backfired immediately when it slammed it into Webster’s face.

“Fuck, I-”

“Get the fuck away from me!”

Joe seemed reluctant to do so, but Sledge shoved him out before he could say another word. Joe seemed to understand, as he fled across the hall. The situation was fucked up enough for now, no need for Joe to accidentally screw it up any more. The door slammed and there was a tense silence.

“Jesus Christ, he hit me!” Web sputtered, holding his jaw. Sledge stood glued to his spot, too stunned to move.

“I-”

“That asshole fucking hit me! Can you believe it?” Web’s face was bright red, and Sledge backed away. He normally would’ve tried to console him, but right now it looked like Web was going to hit anything that came near him. He was just about to go burrow in his room for the next two days when Web began to storm out into the hall. Sledge called to him as he fumbled with the door handle.

“Hey, David, don’t-” Sledge rushed forward and gently grabbed Webster’s shoulder. Web kicked the door in frustration.

“He hit me.” Web said to the door. “Joe hit me.”

“I know.” Sledge led him to the couch, gently, as if he was afraid Web would lash out if he didn’t handle with care.

“He said he wouldn’t hurt me.” Webster said into his hands, cradling his head pitifully. This wasn’t just about the door anymore. “I can’t believe I actually believed that.”

“He didn’t mean to.” Sledge rubbed his back, trying his best to play supportive friend. Where’s Leckie when you need him? “Listen, I think you guys just need to talk.”

“We did talk. I’m done talking. I don’t need this shit anyway, okay? I have to focus on work. I have an article due tomorrow, I...” He rubbed his face and stood up. Sledge noticed a bruise blossoming on his jaw, but didn’t bother to mention it.  “I’ll be in my room.”

Sledge nodded, letting him go. He went back to bed, hoping that they’d fix this by the time he woke again.

 

Lipton felt like complete and utter shit. Once he was finished cleaning up the mess Web left, he slowly made his way back to his own apartment. He felt dizzy and a shooting pain on his right side.

“Shit.” He hissed as he leaned against the door for a moment. Just then, the door opened and Lipton fell through right into Ron.

“Carwood, hey, you okay?” Clearly he wasn’t, but Ron decided to humor him.

“I’m-” He swayed slightly.

“No you aren’t, let’s get you to bed.” Ron gave Carwood no choice in the matter. He wrapped an arm around Carwood’s shoulders and led him to his room.

“I don’t feel so great.” Ron knew it must be true, because Carwood was always attempting to hide anything that could make people worry for him. He was a godawful patient.

“I know. And you’re going to go to sleep, right now. I’m only...” He looked at the clock, noticing it was past ten thirty. “A few hours late to work. They don’t need me anyway.” He helped Carwood into bed and sat next to him.

“Aren’t they going to get mad?”

“I have connections.” Ron said simply, smirking slightly. “They couldn’t fire me, even if they wanted to.” When Carwood looked suspicious at that, he added, “Alright, and I called in and sorted it out as soon as you left to clean up the vomit. It gave me an excuse to use a sick day for once in my life.”

Carwood just nodded, dozing off as Ron carded his fingers slowly through his hair. He was truly grateful to have such good friends. Ron was an angel in disguise. 

“You get better now.”

Carwood made a noise of vague agreement before drifting off.

Located in downtown Charleston, Mama Lieb’s Bakery was founded by Joe’s father before Joe and his sisters were born. It started off as “Lieb’s Bakery”, but when Joe's mother passed away, Roger Liebgott renamed it “Mama Lieb’s” in honor of her. This is also the reason Joe took such an interest in becoming a baker. He wanted to live up to his mother’s name and his father’s legacy. He went to school for business so he could properly manage the bakery, and he’d been doing it since he graduated.

Literally the week after graduating, Babe practically begged Joe for a job at Mama Lieb’s. He was trying to get on his feet, and until he could find a job that brought in the big bucks, he needed a transition job. Joe was a kind guy and let hired him as part of the very small staff that ran the itty bitty bakery. 

He didn’t do much, as Joe didn’t really trust him with the baked goods yet. He had a history of eating anything placed in his hands. Instead, they assigned him to delivery duty, sweeping up the place, and cleaning up the tables. It wasn’t the greatest job, but it paid the bills, and he was very thankful for Joe.

Babe was hard at work the day after the whole hallway situation with Webster when he heard the bell ring, announcing a customer. It was just after breakfast rush, so the place was virtually empty.

“Welcome to Mama Lieb’s, wait a sec and I can get you-” He looked up from where he was collecting cupcake wrappers from the floor to see Gene smiling at him. 

“Hard at work I see?” Gene kissed him on the cheek, making Babe smile widely and attack him with a warm hug. 

“Hey! I keep this place sparklin’ clean! Someone could’ve slipped on these wrappers and died!” Babe threw the offending wrappers away and did a final sweep of the area.

“Sure, sure. And that layer of dust, a threat to allergies right?” His eyes were sparkling. His hair was wild and seemed blacker, if possible, in contrast to his pale skin from working all those hours under the fluorescent lighting of the hospital. _Damn, Gene, why are you so fucking gorgeous?_ Babe thought. _I’m a lucky bastard._

“Of course! I’m saving your life, Gene. Don’t you forget it.” He kissed Roe’s nose sweetly.

“You’re so thoughtful.” Roe crinkled his nose. Babe wanted to snuggle him a little. But what else was new?

“I try. Now, what is a fine strapping man like you doing not working at the hospital? I thought you were booked indefinitely.”

“I thought I’d come by and visit ‘ya. Haven’t seen you since Wednesday.” He sat on the big fluffy chair everyone always fought for. “Been missin’ ya, you know.”

“Missing me?” Babe left his broom in a corner. Nobody else was there at the moment; it was the quiet hour between breakfast and lunch. It was one of Babe’s favorite times since he didn’t have to do much. “Inconceivable!”

He stood before Roe almost not believing he was really there. Roe grabbed one of his hands and gently pulled him down to sit on his lap. Babe laughed a little, looping his arms around Gene’s neck.

“You’re really cute.” Babe buried his face in Roe’s neck. He smelled like flowers and disinfectant. Babe adored it. “Don’t let those lady nurses steal you away, now. Unless it's Renee. If I die, I want you to marry Renee, have I said that before? It's going in my will.”

“I'll let Renee know you're pawnin' her off on me when you're gone. And nobody could ever steal me away from you, Babe.”

“Damn straight.”

They sat in relative silence for a while, just enjoying each other’s company. They never saw much of each other lately, with Roe pulling every shift he could at the hospital. It seemed that their schedules clashed horribly. Sometimes Babe just wanted to curl up in Gene’s bed and not get up until he could at least just kiss Roe good morning. Life just didn’t agree with this plan. They’d only been dating for a few months, so any talk of moving in together was a long way down the road. Babe just wished he got to see his boyfriend more than a few times a week.

Babe was kissing Roe for the first time in three days when Joe walked in, furious and fuming.

“What the fuck you doin’, Heffron?”

Babe nearly jumped off Gene’s lap. For the past day, everyone had been doing their best to avoid Webster and Joe. They were both horrible at hiding their feelings, and neither of them even tried. Joe was taking it considerably worse than Webster, or at least he showed it worse. Webster at least attempted to be stoic and act business as usual. Joe was just a mess.

“I’m-”

“You're clocked in right now. Do you know how unprofessional this looks? I hired you to work here, right? Not make out with your boy toy.”

“He’s not a boy toy!” Babe hugged Roe’s head to his chest. Joe wasn’t going to attack them by any means, but no way was he separating from Gene after not seeing him for three days. He was man enough to admit he missed his boyfriend after such a short time.

“Get back to work. I will fire you.” Joe sounded tired and sad, not angry like Babe had expected. He wished he could do something for him, but he was barely good at juggling his own life problems. Babe looked helplessly at Gene.

“Will you be home tonight?” Babe asked quietly.

“Yeah, I should be. I can get Spina to take over my shift if it comes to it.” Roe looked uneasily at Joe. He and Babe were supposed to have a nice dinner in at Gene’s, but his roommate didn’t look up to sharing space with a couple tonight. “I’ll see you tonight, okay? Let’s do your place.” Babe nodded and slowly lifted himself off Gene to get back to work. Gene gave him a sweet kiss before he left.

“Love you.”

“Love you, too.” Babe smiled quickly before withering under Joe’s hot gaze.

The rest of the work day was incredibly tense and awkward. Babe was near tears by the end of it, if only out of frustration. Joe apologized eventually, but Babe was still scared shitless.

By the time his final shift of the day was up, he got the hell out of there and home to wait for Gene.

Snafu tried his best to protect Eugene from being hurt. He’d been hurt a lot more than people assumed. It was a sad sight to see, and Snafu swore after graduation that he’d protect the boy for as long as he was allowed. But sometimes, Eugene just makes shitty decisions. This was one of them. As much as it hurt to see Eugene hurt over the fallout, Snafu couldn’t reassure him this time.

“I know you can’t do anything to help me. I just want to talk to someone who isn’t angry at me. You’re not angry at me, are you?” Sledge was over for a good wholesome Cajun dinner. Joe was out blowing off steam with Toye, who insisted a round of sparring at the gym would do him well. Snafu could’ve kissed him. With Gene over at Babe’s, Snafu and Eugene had the apartment to themselves. Snafu was grateful for the privacy. It was a rare thing in the building, especially with two roommates.

“I sure ain’t too happy with you over the whole thing. I told you it wasn’t your business, but you went and blabbed anyway.” Snafu shook his head as his set down two plates of rice and gravy. “Joe’s one of my friends too, you know. Can’t always be on yo’ team when you go hurtin’ my friends.”

Eugene looked absolutely crestfallen. He hadn’t meant to cause so much shit. He just really couldn’t keep it to himself, not with Web looking all sad and desperate. “You don’t understand; you didn’t see his face. He looked so desperate, you know? I had to tell him the truth. He deserved to know.”

“You just need to learn not to meddle in nobody’s business.” Snafu said. “How would you like it if Webster got all in your love life, tellin’ you that the person you loved with all yo’ fucked up heart thought you was the most repulsive thing to walk this Earth?”

Eugene had thought about it. He’d thought about it since he knew who it was he loved. The amount of times he’d talked himself out of doing something stupid, out of ruining his friendship with Snafu, was embarrassingly high. He would rather live ignorantly than lose any part of this relationship he had.

“I’d hate them. I’d hate them a lot.”

“Good, y’see? Now eat up and stop sulkin’. We can watch Good Will Hunting when yo’ done. But only because I’m feeling generous and I know you got yo’self a crush on Ben Affleck.”

Hoosier stayed out of drama. He figured that with college and high school behind him, he shouldn’t have to deal with that shit. Then he moved into Currahee, became best friends with Joe Liebgott, and well. Being friends with Joe Liebgott meant a world of drama for everyone. Joe was one of the coolest guys he’d ever met, but also the most hotheaded. When he ran into Hoosier’s apartment and announced that he’d landed a date with Webster from 2E, Hoosier thought his life was going to end by the end of the week. No way could those two put up with each other for long. They’d kill each other.

But one week turned into a month, which turned into six, and then nearly a year. Hoosier was pretty impressed by their dedication to each other. Not many people got to see Web and Joe behind closed doors. The few times Hoosier had, it erased any doubt about them. Web was soft-spoken. Joe was patient. They made each other want to be better. They might yell and bicker, but none of that compared to their private conversations. Hoosier was happy for them both. He would’ve been jealous, but he tried not to wish for things he’d never have.

So Hoosier observed and teased Joe when he was getting soft. He hid behind cigarettes and a nonchalant attitude. When Joe crashed into his and Ray’s apartment the night of the breakup, he was gutted. Just when Joe was finally getting his shit together, it was falling apart. Hoosier knew Joe, and he knew that Joe was caught up in a flurry of awful circumstances. He wanted to kick Sledge’s scrawny ass for not keeping his mouth shut, but he knew he’d do the same thing if Web was shit talking Joe. The whole thing was a mess, and he just wanted things to go back to normal.

That’s how he found himself sulking in Leckie’s company while Ray went out to the bars with Rudy and Guarnere. He could’ve joined them, but he didn’t feel like serving coffee hungover the next day.

Leckie and Hoosier had a system for nights like these. One of them would bring the beer; the other would bring the pizza. They flipped a coin to see who would get to pick the movie. Leckie won this time, so they settled in to watch Casablanca. Hoosier felt so worn out he’d probably fall asleep before they got too far into the plot.

“How’s Web?” Hoosier asked, giving into the fact that neither of them would pay much attention to the movie tonight.

“He’s been better. He’s pretending like nothing happened, which is the weird part. He’s not mad at Eugene anymore, so that’s something.” Leckie sipped loudly at his beer. Hoosier eyed him for a moment then pushed the can into Leckie's face, making him gag a little. In retaliation, Leckie sprayed beer through his teeth, misting over Hoosier's face and making him scrunch his face up. Hoosier decided to end the war there before it got violent. “How’s Joe?”

Hoosier shrugged. “He’s Joe. He’s pretending like he’s furious, but he’s mostly just sad. I hate it. This whole thing is ridiculous.”

“Agreed.”

“Y’know, with all those shitty romance-y porn novels you read, I’d figured you’d be good at dealin’ with these situations.”

Leckie scoffed. “Oh, fuck you, Hoos.”

“Is that an offer?”

Leckie shoved him away and that was that. It was easy for Hoosier to push away his stupid desire to lay across Leckie's lap or tuck his feet under his thighs. He wasn’t going to go there. No fucking way in hell. They weren't like that; they'd never be like that. It was a waste to even think about. So he pretended to watch the movie and fell asleep conveniently so that Leckie would have to clean up this time around. Serves him right for making Hoosier feel so out of his element.

 

It was a week after break-up when Webster had what was arguably the worst day of his entire life.

It started from the moment he woke up. He overslept, and noticed his alarm clock was on the floor and unplugged. God knew how that worked out. To make matters worse, his car decided not to cooperate so he had to run five blocks to work. Sometimes he carpooled with Leckie, but Leckie had to leave for an early meeting with the chief editor. Fan-fucking-tastic.

He arrived around ten thirty and got verbally abused by the assistant manager, then his actual boss, which all ended in him being put back on columnist duty. Back to writing about man-purses and doling out advice to old ladies. That alone almost put Web in tears.

He forgot his wallet at home and didn’t bring lunch, so he was without food. He hadn’t eaten since the night before. And it wasn’t like he could call Joe to drop him off lunch.

After his foodless lunch break, Web attempted to turn things around and look at the bright side. At least he wasn’t fired.

Leckie dropped by his desk during the day, giving his condolences for the demotion. Although Web appreciated the sentiment, Leckie was a damn good editor, and he was in no threat of being demoted anytime soon. Web smiled politely, but Leckie knew he wasn’t wanted around at the moment.

It began to rain around three o’clock, something Webster chose to ignore. Or rather, forced himself to ignore.

Around three thirty, Webster’s mom called.

“Hello, mother.” Webster really did not feel like speaking with his mom. Every call she  made only meant there was something new she was disappointed in. Maybe this time she’d at least be happy with the news that Webster was a bachelor again. She never did like Joe.

“David.” She said shortly. Here we go. “Your uncle called.”

Web should’ve seen that one coming. His uncle was unfortunately his boss, but didn't like admitting they were related. He should’ve known he’d call his mother. It was about his demotion, Web was positive. Web could see her now, drunk and bored in their house, father away on business again. So instead of doing the decent thing and going out with friends, she called to torture her son. Typical Lillian Webster.

“I’m disappointed.”

She was always disappointed.

“I’m sorry, it wasn’t my fault! It’s just been an off week.”

“It’s always an off something, isn’t it? Your entire life is just off? I bet it’s Joseph. You were so much better before him.”

“You’ll be happy to know we’re no longer seeing each other.” Webster squeezed the shark shaped stress ball Joe had bought him last year as part of a birthday package. Other items included an anthology Webster had been eyeing for a long while (which really showed how much Joe once cared because he never stepped foot in book stores) and a coupon for 5 date nights signed “paid for by Joe!” that he made himself. Webster loved it all. He wished he could rewind to then instead of living in the shitty present.

(He tried not to think of how he would never get to use the last two date coupons.)

“How horrible.” The words were empty, and they both knew it. “Well, if you need a rebound, I hear that Isabel is getting a divorce-”

“I still only like men, mom.”

“Oh.” She sounded slightly disgusted, but Webster was used to it by now. “Well, the point of this phone call was to let you know this is your last warning. We’ve already taken you off the will, darling, don’t make us disown you as well.”

Webster paled. “You’ve taken me off the will?”

“Well, yes. Wouldn’t look good to have our money going to a queer, now would it? Don’t take it personally, sweetheart.”

“You have Anne Porter on the will. She’s not even related to us.”

“Close family friend.”

“You talked to her once at a charity auction. And you were drunk.”

“Listen, just do your work, marry a pretty girl, and maybe you can earn your way back on the will.”

By now, Webster was positively fuming. “I’m your son. I shouldn’t have to earn my way onto the will. That’s just as bad as disowning!”

“Don’t be a drama queen, David.”

At that, Webster couldn’t take it anymore. He slammed his phone back onto its cradle and rubbed his hands over his face. Leckie poked his head out of the break room, which was a few feet away from where Web’s desk was.

He decided to leave the office a little early that day for the good of all involved. Leckie, the beautiful friend he was, took one for the team and left early as well to give Web a ride home. Webster could’ve cried when they reached the apartment complex. His day was finally over.

After a cold shower, because the awful day just kept rolling and the shower hated him too, Webster curled up on the sofa in his sweatpants and Harvard sweater and turned on the TV to try and distract himself.

But he couldn’t. All he could think about was he wasn’t on the will and he couldn’t even keep the cover story job. He couldn’t keep Joe. When it boiled down to it, Webster realized there wasn’t much actually could do.

Leckie emerged from his room not long after.

“Hey, Web. You okay? I sorta overheard your conversation with your mom today.” Leckie approached carefully.

Webster blinked up at him, looking almost confused for a moment. “I don’t know. Bad day.”

Alarm bells rang loudly in Leckie’s head. This was usually Joe’s territory. Leckie could take care of Web pretty damn well, but not this. He could only do so much until Webster stonewalled him. And it seemed like the stonewalling was beginning early today.

“I’ll be back, okay?” Leckie patted his shoulder. “Hang tight.”

Webster nodded, staring blankly at the television.

Across the hall, chaos was near breaking out.

“Joseph Liebgott, get your sorry ass over to my apartment right now.” Leckie yelled as he knocked on 2D’s door. Joe was fiddling with the remote on the couch, and lazily stood to go get the door.

“Why should I?” He grumbled as he sat heavily back on his couch.  

“Please, Joe, come on.”

“No.”

Leckie pulled Joe up by his shoulders and shoved him in the general direction of the door. “Go.”

“You’re really bad at being subtle, Leck. I can’t talk to him. You know that.” Joe tried to go back to the couch.

“This isn’t about you, okay? This is about him.”

“It’s always fucking about him, isn’t it?”

“His mother practically disowned him. On top of that, he got demoted, he doesn’t have you to fall back on and all in all it’s been a pretty shitty day for him. So if you don’t go over there and fix him up, he’s going to be in a fucking awful state for the next ten fucking years.” Leckie shoved him.

They stared at each other for a long, long moment. Eventually, Joe silently turned around and walked out of 2D.

Joe wondered why he was doing it. He could easily just walk out and defy Leckie’s request. But something was pulling him to Web, pulling him to help. He knew Mrs. Webster; he knew her quite well. They never did get along. Lillian resented him. In her words, he “gayed up” her son and she never really forgive him for that. Joe didn’t give a flying fuck; he just wanted Web to be okay.

So he stood in front of the door, wondering how he could make all this up to him. If it was even possible.

Web heard a soft knock at the door. He looked surprised at the sound. He’d figured everyone was reluctant to talk to him now. It’s not that he liked it that way. Web loved his friends. But he wasn’t the best company recently, especially not after the day he had.

“It’s open.” He said, not looking away from the TV. He didn't even really know what he was watching. Something on the History Channel, maybe.

Joe walked in tentatively. Web looked so distraught and awful, it made Joe lose his thoughts for a moment. There was a world inside that look. Joe was all too familiar with Webster’s family issues. His borderline alcoholic mother, a job he loved working under an uncle he despised if only until he could find another magazine to work for, his father who just was never there. And now this. Joe was suddenly hit with anger as he wondered how anyone could leave Web high and dry like that. Pile pressure on him, make him work to even be considered a son. The look on Web’s face reminded Joe that he had to try and be level-headed for once.

“Web.” He said simply. When Web didn’t react, he knelt in front of him, slowly reaching for the remote and turning off the TV. “Web, look at me.”

Web’s eyes closed slowly, and when they opened they were wet and wide. “Why are you here?” He asked quietly.

“Leckie told me what happened.” He grabbed Web’s hands gently. Web looked at their entwined hands and began to cry. “Hey, it’s okay.”

“No it’s not.” Webster sobbed. “It’s not okay.”

“Hey, look at me.” Joe took his face in his hands and rubbed his tears away with his thumbs. He noticed the large bruise on his jaw, and felt a pang of guilt. He’d put that there. Definitely not on purpose, never on purpose, but still. It hurt and Joe wanted to take it back. Joe ran his thumb over the bruise lightly. “It’s okay. I’m sayin’ it’s gonna be okay, it’s gonna be okay.”

“My mother...my own mother practically told me I was disowned. God, I’m not good enough for my boss, I’m not good enough for my mother, I wasn’t good enough for you...shit, what am I good for?” Web asked, reluctantly meeting Joe’s eyes.

“Hey, you stop that, okay?” Joe said, his own heart breaking just a little. “You were more than enough for me, alright? You were too good for me, Web. I didn’t deserve you at all.” Speaking about their relationship in past tense made Joe feel uneasy. “Your mom, your boss, they’re fucking stupid, okay? You’re the most amazing guy I’ve ever met. And...” Joe paused, gripping Webster’s wet face in shaking hands. “I love you so much it scares me.”

“No...don’t say that, please, don’t...” Web held Joe’s wrists in his hands. “Don’t say that just for me.”

“You think I’m saying that just for you? Fuck, Web, I’ve been in love with you since you moved in and started stealing all the pickles from our apartment.” Joe ran his hands through Webster’s hair. Webster laughed wetly. “I fucking love you, and I just want you to know that just ‘cos you might be having the shittiest day from hell, you matter to me and fuck everyone else. I’ll love you, even if you decide you’d rather swim with the sharks. I’ll love you, even if you won’t love me.”

Webster’s hands moved to Joe’s neck, gripping it like it was his only lifeline. “No.” He whispered.

“What’ya mean no?”

“You...you hurt me.” He looked down again, almost ashamed for allowing himself to get hurt so badly by something that shouldn’t hurt at all. “What you said to Sledge-”

Joe’s hands slipped from Web’s hair and limply onto his shoulders. “Web, you...I...I didn’t mean to hurt you, and you know it. Sledge completely misunderstood what I was saying-”

“That’s not the point.” Webster pushed his hands away. Slowly, as if he was afraid he would pull himself apart in the process, he set his elbows on his knees. “Dammit, Joe. I’m not in the mood for this, alright? You can’t just come in here like some fucking knight in shining armor, expecting me to just jump on board with you.”

“I’m tryin’ to help you, Web!” Joe wanted to scream and shake him, but he chose against it. That would only hinder the process of putting Web back together.

“Well don’t!” Web stood abruptly and strode to the kitchen, distancing himself from Joe frantically. He was just so close, and it was hurting him. Because, yeah, he fucking missed Joe and he shouldn’t. He should hate him; he should loathe him. But he doesn’t. And maybe that was the worst part of all. There was a time when he had thought maybe Joe could save him, but what he never thought was that he didn’t need anyone to save him. He needed someone to fight by his side. And maybe that person was Joe, no matter how little Web wanted it to be true at the moment.

So that was why, instead of doing lashing out and kicking Joe out of his apartment and life, Web turned around and said, “I miss you.”

It was silent for a long moment as Joe walked slowly towards Web. “I could say the same thing about you.”

Web laughed a little. The sound was gorgeous to Joe. “I’m sorry.” Web was leaning heavily on his kitchen counter top, as if he couldn’t quite hold himself up right then. As if the weight of the day was just growing too much to bear.

Joe turned him gently with a push of his shoulder. “Hey, you don’t have to be sorry for anything. It’s me that’s gotta be sorry, alright? _I’m_ sorry.”

And like a dam had broken, Web seemed to collapse on Joe, clutching his shirt and burying his face into his neck.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do.” Web cried.

“Okay, well first thing you’re going to do is sit down and fuckin’ breathe. And we definitely need to find you a new job that doesn’t fuckin’ kill you.” Joe said as he ran a hand up and down Web’s back. “Fuck your mom, Web. Offense intended. You’ve got Leckie, you’ve got all the guys, Renee, even Kitty…” He didn’t want to test his luck by including himself in that list.

“I’ve got you.”

“Really?” Joe pulled back and searched Web’s face. He didn’t think he’d be able to take it if Web wasn’t being a hundred percent serious.

“God, yes, Joe. I mean, what you said was...awful, no matter how you meant it. I’m still going to be pissed at you for a while. But if I’m honest, the reason you needed to vent like that at all is because you and I are the world’s worst communicators. You were scared, and I get that. But next time, you gotta just talk to me. Tell me what you told Snafu, even if it hurts like hell.” He paused. For someone who majored in literature, he was having a difficult time coming up with the words to describe what he needed. “I realized after I forgot my lunch and I couldn’t call you, after my mom called and I knew I’d have to handle it on my own....I don’t need you to fight for me. That might've been expecting too much. But hell if I don’t want you to fight with me. I honestly think we make each other better. And I can’t let that go, no matter how scared either of us gets.”

Joe nodded. He placed his hands on Web’s neck, eager to keep himself anchored to his boy. And, man, was it good that Web was his again.

“I’ve missed you, you know.” Joe touched his forehead to Web’s. “I’m sorry, okay? I’m so fucking sorry. I’ll talk to you about everything, yeah? I’ll talk you to death if it means I can keep you.”

Web nodded. They stood there for a quiet moment, taking each other in. It’d been a long, dramatic week. Joe hoped he’d never have to do that shit again. It was awful.

“What d’ya say I take you out for dinner, hmm? Completely on me.”

Web leaned in and kissed him earnestly. Joe wrapped his arms around his shoulders, wanting him as close as possible at the moment.

“I would love that.”

**Author's Note:**

> Not 100% sure if this is going to be a series (I planned it to be with all my favorite couples that didn't fit in here, so I'm setting it up as a series just in case). I loved working on this though!
> 
> If I do continue this, I promise not everything will be so dramatic. Why I feel the need to constantly break up Web and Joe, the world will never know.
> 
> Thank you for reading!


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